


Missing (You)

by jessamurphy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Season/Series 03, Sharing a Bed, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 13:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8250541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessamurphy/pseuds/jessamurphy
Summary: They had decided to scout the woods, to go looking for remains of what was once a coalition turned into an army of enemies willing to get their heads on a stick. In their eyes they were the enemy, harborers of death; with their fall came nothing but destruction. And well, after slaughtering the peace-army and releasing a destructive AI upon them which had taken away their pain -and defeating that certain AI and bringing the pain back to the people- Bellamy supposed they weren’t really wrong. But Skaikru was struggling too, and the promise of a clan of warriors awaiting them being a mere ghost seemed too good to be true. So they went out scouting at the end of the day, split in small groups of three or two people deemed fit enough.  “Our last area,” Monty whispered in the dead of night. “Should look familiar.” “Section E2,” Jasper muttered whilst looking around. The branches were looming over them, digging their way beneath them; a branch brushed his elbow, and his feet brushed the shattered branches laying atop the earth. “Also known as-“Jasper was the first to walk ahead, silently, checking for any signs or traces. They found none.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to try...something different. Probably the longest standalone I have ever written and also the one I lost the most (needed) sleep over.
> 
> as per usual, completely unbeta'd, but I still hope you all enjoy it!

They had decided to scout the woods, to go looking for remains of what was once a coalition turned into an army of enemies willing to get their heads on a stick. In their eyes they were the enemy, harborers of death; with their fall came nothing but destruction. And well, after slaughtering the peace-army and releasing a destructive AI upon them which had taken away their pain -and defeating that certain AI and bringing the pain back to the people- Bellamy supposed they weren’t really wrong. But Skaikru was struggling too, and the promise of a clan of warriors awaiting them being a mere ghost seemed too good to be true. So they went out scouting at the end of the day, split in small groups of three or two people deemed fit enough. Raven would stand watch at the camp walls, looking for any returning, accompanied by Abby, who was ready to rush to the aid of those who needed it. Kane and Octavia were the first to leave, and the first to return. Murphy, Bellamy and Miller went after them, reviving what was once a group of friends. Then Clarke and Harper went out scouting, accompanied by Jasper and Monty. There weren’t a lot of scouts, but they didn’t think there would be a lot needed; it was better to be a breeze rustling through the bushes than a hurricane deracinating trees. 

 

Everyone had thought they’d find others. Grounders. People with their spears and swords aimed at their chests. Whatever remained of the Reapers, people they hadn’t encountered yet- someone. Instead, they were just aimlessly wandering with not another soul in sight. The feeling they all encountered— eventually - was one of unease. An unsettling chill crawled across their skins while the darkness embraced them. 

Murphy was the first to conclude they had been damned to be haunted. He thought that they had been left alone just to be driven crazy; paranoia was a razor-teethed monster dragging you backwards by your ankles, devouring you inch by inch while you out watching. There weren’t going to be any others- they would be stupid to come there. If they were indeed the damned. If they were indeed being damned. Not that that was anything new to Murphy.

No one would come. No one but them and their stupid groups of scouts and the occasional disfigured deer and squirrel. At that point of thought, Murphy had started groaning, sighing, trying to pull the others back. It was no use.

Bellamy said they had to cover their ground.  
Bellamy, ever the tactic. Murphy still groaned, but more silently. The faster they’d walk, the faster they’d cover their ground. The faster they could escape the open emptiness.

Murphy didn’t like to be alone.

 

There was half an hour between the departing of each group. Kane was the one to carry the first walkie talkie, eventually reporting to the others it was safe to go. One walkie talkie left camp at a time. They only had five walkie talkies to distribute: two would stay at camp, while the other three went on the mission- that way they had at least one working pair should anything go wrong. Raven had one with her at all times, then there was Jackson in the sickbay, ready to yell for Abby when in need of assistance. 

There was a lot of static.

Raven knew the walkies worked perfectly fine -hell, she had made them. Still, the crackle of noise, the moments in between breaths, every sound the walkie produced- it unsettled her. She didn’t like the way she was left alone just to wait, see if anyone would return. Raven knew everyone was capable- but so was she. The way her gut feeling didn’t line up with her train of thought annoyed her. And then there was the voice- _they should be back by now._

 

“No one’s here,” Murphy sighed into the walkie talkie, sounding bored and slightly disgruntled, the way he always sounded. There was a noise, and then Bellamy was hissing angrily in the background- all which everyone heard. There was the sound of Murphy and Bellamy arguing in hushed voices, until Miller finally took the walkie talkie and reported to the others.  
“Area B2 to 5 clear,” he said formally. There was a moment in which the bickering in the background died down. A small sigh. “We will be heading back to camp, over.” 

“Areas C1 to 4 are clear as well,” answered Octavia. “Checking area B1 before heading back. Almost done, over.”   
Clarke looked from Harper to Monty and Jasper.  
  
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly keen on being the last ones to scout these woods,” Clarke said in a hushed voice.

“Someone has to be the last,” Monty mumbled, not really audible to anyone but Jasper, who had turned to look at his face in the dim light of their flashlight. Harper stretched her fingers, eyes scanning their surroundings before taking the walkietalkie and speaking.  


“Any updates on area B1? Over.”  


“Clear, over,” was all that was said before Octavia’s voice disappeared as fast as it came. Harper shot Clarke a pointed look. Clarke bit her lip.

“We should split up,” she eventually decided. “I know that the other areas being clear doesn’t mean ours are, but we will be quicker in pairs. We have enough weapons and flashlights to split, we just-“  


“Don’t have enough walkies, yeah,” Jasper muttered. He looked past Clarke and Harper, eyes trained on the horizon which was barely visible through the trees. He thought that somewhere in the distance he was able to see the first rays of sunlight. Jasper felt betrayed by his vision.  


“I think-“ Harper started to say, but Monty interrupted her.  


“You should take the walkie,” he nodded. Jasper felt his heart rate spike, but he didn’t comment. “We’ll stick to our original plan. Scout the area, stick together. Head back to camp. Whoever’s not there by sunrise will be searched for after breakfast.” 

They all nodded. There was no use in changing plans; sticking together would make them more of a target, were they to be one. So they split, heading the same way, dividing the areas between them. Harper and Clarke. Jasper and Monty.

 

“Our last area,” Monty whispered in the dead of night. “Should look familiar.”  


“Section E2,” Jasper muttered whilst looking around. The branches were looming over them, digging their way beneath them; a branch brushed his elbow, and his feet brushed the shattered branches laying atop the earth. “Also known as-“

Jasper was the first to walk ahead, silently, checking for any signs or traces. They found none. Where bodies once had lain flowers now withered. It was all grass and ash. The trees were leaving them behind; dropping them into a memory.  


“This place has withstood almost as much as us,” Monty said, eyes darting from the vines crawling up the metal to the ground underneath.  


“Almost,” Jasper’s voice was barely a whisper, strain with emotion. He heard Monty inhale sharply, knew his best friend was turning towards him before seeing him move.

They’d always be tethered to this place. 

Jasper cleared his throat.  


“We should check inside,” he said, a bit shaky. It took a moment before he started to move, recalling being there months ago, bottled sloshed in his hand, yelling and tripping and falling apart. 

He tried not to think about it too much.

Inside was as empty as it had ever been. The Dropship was weathered and beaten down, scarred like Jasper’s chest, beaten and broken but still there.  


“I feel oddly nostalgic,” Jasper said eventually. His words didn’t quite say what he wanted to say, what he meant. They didn’t need to. Monty would know what he meant in any way. Like he always had.

Sometimes it were the words unspoken giving him away. When they were younger -they still were _young_ \- Monty had quickly learnt that. Words weren’t always speaking for Jasper, but his gestures were. His eyes- the looks in Jasper’s eyes- had always been an integral part of his being. He had never been good at hiding his emotions.

“I want to watch the stars,” Monty said whilst inspecting the hole in the back of the Dropship, the one Murphy had made before escaping, before they blew the whole thing up. He mentioned it so casually Jasper almost didn’t notice the longing tone in his voice. Slowly he made is way up, not wanting to be alone, not wanting to be left behind, but mostly wanting to be there with Monty.

They were healing, but they weren’t there yet. 

Jasper reached out.

“So let’s watch them,” he said, even though the feeling in the pit of his stomach was trying to pull him back, to get them out. He made his way towards where Monty was standing. He sat down, still listening, alert. Monty threw the rest of the area a quick glance before sitting down, shoulder brushing against Jasper’s. It was a comfort they were used to, especially since they had started sharing a room in the Ark again. It went without saying, their casual contact, their gentle touches. Monty felt Jasper’s shoulders relax a bit and smiled to himself.

“You know it’s clouded, right,” Monty sighed softly.  


“Yeah,” Jasper answered, voice barely a whisper, thoughts entirely somewhere else. Even though Monty knew they had to start moving, they needed to get going, he allowed himself to linger in this moment a bit longer. He studied Jasper’s face in the faint glow of the moon hidden behind clouds.  


“Jasp,” urged Monty, nodding his shoulder. Jasper turned his head, facing Monty. Their faces were so close Jasper could’ve counted Monty’s eyelashes if he wanted to, even with the little light they had. Monty looked at him. Jasper looked back. 

Then Jasper moved. He stuck out his hand to help Monty up, who took it even if he didn’t need it.

“Let’s go home,” Monty said, even if this felt like home, even when home had always been up in space.  


“Well, you know what they say,” Jasper said quietly. “Home is where the heart is.” His eyes lingered.

Monty blinked one time before turning around, clicking on the flashlight again, making sure they wouldn’t fall down the ladder. They made it to the ground safely, pushing aside the remains of the curtain closing the entrance of the Dropship off of the rest of the world. Monty paused, listening close for sounds other than the night’s. When he heard nothing he started moving, almost systematically.

And then he stopped.

Jasper whirled around, noticing the change in the hum of silence around them. That was just it; the silence was a hum now. He readied his gun, knowing pretty damn sure he wouldn’t be shooting off into the night. His body was tense.

There was a soft ‘woosh’, almost unnoticeable. Then the sound of something sharp hitting flesh. Jasper didn’t feel any pain, so he knew it must be Monty who was hurt.  


“Monty?” he asked, hushed his voice. He heard a sharp inhale.  


“I’m fine,” Monty grunted out. “We should get going.”   
Another swooping sound came, and Jasper’s heart started beating erratically. As Monty picked up his pace the world sprang into motion. Suddenly there was so much happening all at once that Jasper didn’t know where to look, what to think. Everything went autopilot. He followed Monty, felt something hitting his skin, saw shadows dancing around the treeline but not coming any closer. He bit his lip when he felt something hit his stomach, but didn’t stop, just kept going.

“Monty,” he breathed heavily, disoriented. “Monty?” he called again, his voice louder this time. A crash. a shout. Jasper looked around frantically whilst running, seeing only a glimmer in the eyes of their attackers, their bodies swallowed by the inkblack of night. He couldn’t keep looking around like this; he had to look forward. They were under attack, not being chased. They just had to make it out-

“Ahg,” Jasper gasped. His foot had been stuck on a stray upgrown root of a tree, his ankle now throbbing with pain.  


“Jasper!” he heard Monty call. He tried to follow his voice, but was met halfway. Monty slung his arm around Jasper, supporting his weight. Jasper started to shake his head, protesting, not wanting to slow Monty down.  


“Just go,” Jasper said, trying to escape from Monty’s hold and gasping in pain. He bit his lip to refrain himself from letting out a moan, simultaneously trying to push Monty away, to get him to get moving.  


“I’m not leaving you,” Monty hissed stubbornly, dragging Jasper along. Jasper didn’t try to escape again.  


“We need to get to the fence,” Jasper said, liming as fast as he could. He tried to ignore the pain, to focus on just getting there. He covered his stomach with his hand when flares of red-hot pain started to shoot up his torso, almost certain that he’d been hit with some kind of dart.  


“We’ll make a run for it,” Jasper decided. “Let me go.”  


“Jasp-“ Monty started, but Jasper wasn’t having any of it.  


“You need to make it,” Jasper said decidedly. “I’m gonna be fine.”  


“You don’t look fine,” Monty said. “You don’t sound fine.”  


“Your judgement’s clouded,” Jasper muttered. “Like tonight’s sky.” 

He heard Monty faintly laugh before he was let go, stumbled like a newborn deer on its feet. Beside the rustling wind the threat had seemed to be gone.  
Jasper didn’t trust it.

Monty slowly picked up pace. Jasper breathed and then started running, a kick of adrenaline rushing through his body, his body aching, his lungs heavy, his muscles liquid. Only a few strides ahead there was the fence. Only a few strides and they would be home, as Monty had called it. 

Jasper heard a rustle. Monty was ahead of him, slowing down, and he, he was looking back.  
He should’ve known not to look back.

 

* * *

 

Jasper was gasping for air, squirming and dryheaving, tears stinging in his eyes. He drew a breath, cold cloth connecting with his stomach. The wound looked nasty, even if it was a small one. A bit like his spearwound had looked, he supposed. That thought made him more nauseous than he already was. 

But he had made it back. Abby and Raven hadn’t seen them- which was to be expected when using a hidden entrance. There had been no guard opening the gates to Arkadia, no frantic shouting, no rushing to their aid. They had made it inside. And now they were bleeding and aching and fixing each other up. Like they always had.

It was very make-shift. They would be patched up properly in the morning, but Jasper could feel the adrenaline ebbing away, and his head started aching again, dull and distant and very much there. He let out a soft gasp, his wounds being bandaged. He lowered himself onto the bed, watching into the dim room from underneath his lashes. Jasper could feel Monty looking at his chest, at the scars once left there by the grounders, at the freshly formed bruises. He swallowed before lamely stretching out his arm.  


“C’mere,” he said, already falling asleep. Monty didn’t protest. Ever since sharing a room it hadn’t become uncommon for them to share a bed too. Especially since they both had nightterrors, memories visiting their dreams to hunt them down, tearing them apart at the seams. Jasper knew he needed the comfort. Something that felt like _home_.

They lay beside each other, already drifting, exhausted, too tired to change into other clothes, only their boots kicked aside. Two blankets were already strewn across the bed: Jasper distinctly recalled waking up to hear Monty’s frantic breathing, his erratic mumbling which eventually had turned into a shout. Dreams about his mother dying at his hands, again and again. The hardest part to acknowledge was that it wasn’t so much as a dream as it was a memory, and Monty’d felt himself turn into a monster again and again and again. When he had awoken Jasper had moved, sitting on the edge of his bed, shifting, not asking if he was allright because he knew they weren’t. He had just waited for Monty’s heartbeat to slow down, for his sweat to start drying. Then he had gingerly pulled him into an embrace, hand striking soothingly through his hair while the other subtly rubbed his upper back. Monty had leaned into the touch, his body shaking, tears stinging his eyes. He sat curled up, body heavy against Jasper’s, only allowing himself to relax when he heard Jasper mutter: “we will get through this together”.  


“Stay here with me,” Monty had said, and it hadn’t been so much of a request as it was a question. They’d unwrappedthemselves again, readjusted themselves. Jasper had gotten up to pick up his blanket and pillow, Monty had moved aside so that Jasper would fit in his bed as well. When Monty’d stifled a yawn, Jasper had smiled.  


“Time to catch some z’s,” his voice was warm in the chilly night air. They had lain facing each other, arms and legs between them. They had woken up intertwined. 

Jasper shivered ever so slightly, and was vaguely aware of Monty moving beside him.  


“You’re cold,” Monty concluded. Jasper wondered if he was contemplating throwing his blanket over his body, but then heard the shifting and a suppressed groan. He then felt a sudden warmth running up and down his back, felt legs connecting, felt an arm being carefully slung across his waist.  


“You’re hot,” he mumbled as he felt Monty nuzzling his nose into his neck, warmth radiating off of his body.  


“Always have been,” Monty joked groggily.  


“And that’s the gospel truth,” Jasper muttered under his breath before finally drifting off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

When Jasper woke the sun was up and the bed empty. Two simple facts. The sun was up. The bed was empty. Jasper shuddered when the cold air hit his exposed skin, arm sticking out from under the blanket. His whole body ached in a way that only thrummed with a hum of _‘survival’_ in his brain. It took a moment for his mind to awaken, to realize someone else had been with him the night before. Jasper felt his heart drop before sitting upright way too quickly.

“Monts?” he called out, his voice raw, sleep stinging in his eyes. He ignored the burning pain in his side and got on his feet, using the wall for support from time to time. “Monty?” 

His heartbeat spiked while he kept walking. He’d never been good at missing Monty. 

“Monty?” Jasper startedto sound more desperate, wincing with every step he took. Jasper turned to look at their beds, searching if he’d missed anything, any clues about-

“Jasp, what are you doing?”  


Jasper whirled around at the sound of Monty’s voice, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Are you okay?” Monty asked, looking at Jasper with a weird look on his face. Jasper nodded.  


“You weren’t there,” he said honestly, feeling small. “I was missing you.”  


“I was taking a piss,” Monty said. “No need to get worried.”  


“Way to ruin that soppy moment,” Jasper cracked a smile. “Ready to go to breakfast?”  


“I’ll take a shower first. Save me some.”

“Will do,” Jasper said. “Just make sure to be on time- you know that Miller’ll eat all the good stuff.”

 

The dining area was quite crowded. People were eating in groups, often the ones in which they worked. Breakfast never was anything special, the only special thing about it was that they had actual food to eat. Jasper made his way through the crowd, slowly but steadily.

Raven looked up and immediately took a retake. 

“Jasper!” she said while tugging him into a bone-crushing hug. “You made it.”

“Yeah,” he said, “wouldn’t dare let you eat all these delicious-“ he frowned at the plate of food in front of him and vaguely gestured towards it. Jasper couldn’t help but wince as he sat down.  


“You’re hurt,” Clarke concluded.  


“Just a little bruised,” Jasper tried to brush it of, playing with his fork. He wasn’t really hungry, but he knew he should eat.  


“There’s blood on your shirt,” Clarke stated.

“It has dried,” Jasper shrugged, and he saw Harper’s eyes widen.  


“You should go see Abby,” she urged, “if something happened last night-“  


“I just tripped,” Jasper said, feeling annoyed. He only came to eat breakfast, not to be examined and diagnosed. “There were grounders in between the trees- or so I thought- so I ran and I fell. It hurts. It’s bandaged.”  


“How did you get it bandaged when y-“ Harper started to wonder, but then Bellamy interrupted her.  


“Which area are we talking about?”  


“E2.”  


“And the other areas-“  


“Clear.”  


Bellamy nodded, taking Jasper’s answers into consideration. In his head, a map was unfolding. He was already making a plan, Jasper could tell. There was a somewhat awkward silence which Jasper used to eat his breakfast, peering of his shoulder from time to time, wondering why Monty was taking so long. He was almost finished eating his breakfast when he heard Bellamy inhale sharply, as if he just remembered something important.  


“Jasper,” he said, sounding serious. “Where is Monty?”  


“Taking a shower,” Jasper said around his last bite of breakfast. The look on Bellamy’s face was one of confusion. He saw Clarke and him exchanging looks for a moment.  


“Is he okay?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Jasper frowned. Monty really should be here by now. Bellamy and Clarke were exchanging another look, and now Harper was sharing it. For a moment, there were eyes darting upon his bloodied shirt, his disheveled hair, his dirt-stricken clothes. They didn’t say anything about it. 

“I’m gonna go,” Jasper said, without further explanation. He made his way down the halls, long corridors of metal plates and fluorescent light. His bare feet echoed on the floor tiles, ever so softly. Jasper made sure to stop by their room and pick up a clean shirt, so that the one he was wearing could be washed. When he left their room again he found himself wandering, making a detour before finally arriving at the shared bathroom. He heard the water running still.  


“Monts?” he asked, cautiously approaching. He didn’t want to startle Monty. “You still in here?” 

The shower turned off.  


“Yeah,” Jasper eventually heard. “The dirt wouldn’t wash off.” The door of the shower opened, revealing a dripping wet Monty, towel wrapped around his waist.  


“Looks like I’m going to be in there for a while then,” Jasper slowly smiled. He studied Monty for a moment, checked him for any marks. There was only one: a small circle just under his ribs, with the diameter of a small screw. Jasper felt his breath hitch.  


“Hey,” he heard Monty say, and Jasper tore his gaze away from the small scar. “You saved me breakfast, right?”   
Jasper nodded.

“I think the others might be gone though, you might have to eat breakfast alone.”  


“Well, it’s my own fault then,” Monty shrugged, “at least I’m clean now.”  


“Wonder how long that’s gonna last,” Jasper retorted. Monty gave him a smirk, then looked worriedly at Jasper’s torso.

“Be careful with that,” he nodded. “You don’t want it to get infected.”  


  

* * *

 

The day sauntered on. Ever since the wars, the battles, the City of Light, and everything else they had been through, life at Arkadia had been messy. Slowly but surely a routine was beginning to form again, the former hierarchy completely overthrown. People were assigned duties or tasks. Even the delinquents. There was a small class with a grownup teaching for the kids that were left, but the delinquents- they knew everything they needed to know. They knew that they were the ones who could teach the others about survival, about the grounders, about the dangers and the merits of earth. They didn’t. Because most grownups still felt they were wiser, more knowledgable. They still felt like authority figures. The delinquents didn’t really feel that way, but they didn’t care either. They had enough freedom, there were no leaders who weren’t solely focussed on keeping them alive. There was no room for policies. There was no room for politics, because at that moment, there were no politics.

The delinquents all slept in close proximity to one another. They shared two bathrooms, as far as there were bathrooms. The bedrooms all were located in the same wing. It wasn’t like there were many of them left. They were usually paired up, sharing a room with two single beds and something like a simple desk and a box or chest to keep your belongings in. Belongings were an unfamiliar concept to them; up in space, everything was shared. Here, down on earth, everything was shared too, but you got to keep what the ground gave you. 

Miller and Bryan, of course, shared a room. Ever since Farm Station had made it down they had shared one, and ALIE hadn’t changed that. Harper and Monroe used to share, but now it’s only Clarke who shares the room with her from time to time. Octavia still had the entrance code to her and Lincoln’s room, but she still enjoyed sleeping outside more. She wasn’t much at camp anyway. Most of the time, Raven was alone, but she always had a place open for anyone who desired it. It’s mostly Clarke, who initially didn’t get a room because she was in Polis once the rooms were being divided among the survivors. Bellamy and Murphy had ended up sharing a room, and while nobody really knew how with their past and all, they made it work. Jasper and Monty. Monty and Jasper. They were the only ones left in their close-knitted group of friends. Survivors.  


Today, Jasper was doing whatever he could to cultivate land, together with a bunch of other people he didn’t know and didn’t really want to talk to, because the work reminded him too much of Monty’s parents, which lead him to think about his own parents, which reminded him how they still weren’t there and probably would never be.  


He kept digging holes. Half of the time, he didn’t even know why he was digging holes. He was asked to, and he was tired, so he just dug them. Tiny, shallow holes, like needles pricking skin. There was always someone behind him to fill the hole and cover it up. He was never the one covering it up.

In some ironic way Jasper felt it might be a metaphor for his life, and he decided that he did not want to do this work again. He also felt that taking a shower that morning had be a waste, because there he was again, sweat dripping from the sun that kept dancing upon his skin, dirt underneath his fingernails, a sting in his side if he bent the wrong way. 

“Time’s up,” he heard someone say. At first it sounded a lot like Monty, but Jasper knew it couldn’t be him. Monty was somewhere else. “Good job on the farming, John, Peter, Marie, everyone.” 

There were sighs of relief everywhere, even from the people who enjoyed working outside with their hands in the dirt. It had been a long, hot day.

The whole bunch moved inside, chatting along. Jasper followed silently, eyes skidding across the walls, looking past the people to see if he could find anyone familiar to him. For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of inkblack hair, the same color Monty’s was. When he blinked he was gone.

His eyes were still skidding when Abby spotted him walking.

“Jasper,” she called out, catching his attention. He gritted to a halt, and Abby came marching towards him. “Clarke said you had blood on your shirt this morning. You tripped, is that right?” 

Jasper felt dumbstruck. Abby looked at him expectantly for a moment. When Jasper didn’t answer, she searched his face with a mixture of curiosity and worry, sighing and smiling with a sad look in her eyes.  


“Do you need me to check up on you?”  


“No,” Jasper shook his head.  


“If you’re still in pain tomorrow you should stop by,” Abby said. Jasper frowned in confusion. He hadn’t told her anything about his injuries. Abby smiled. “I can tell by the way you walk. It’s your right ankle, and I think your chest might’ve hit the ground pretty hard because your face changes when you take a deep breath, like you’re in pain.” She nodded and started to turn, but then stopped and added: “and tell Monty to see me if he’s in any pain. My door’s always open for you.”  


  

* * *

 

“Jasper,” Monty’s voice sounded hoarse, “can we sleep together again?” 

Jasper felt a smile crawling on his face. He tried to ignore the little skip of his heart as he nodded. He kicked off his shoes and took off his socks, changed from his pants into the only pair of sweatpants he owned, or well, had gotten. He made sure the door was closed before walking over to Monty’s bed, where the sheets and blankets and pillows still lay. They shuffled underneath the sheets, both laying on their sides. 

“Monty?”  


“Hm, yeah?”  


“I really like this,” Jasper mumbled, almost inaudible, his ears going red. He saw the faint outline of a smile on Monty’s face. Monty took his hand, thumb rubbing over the back, softly, before Monty pulled him closer. He curled up against Jasper’s chest, nose nuzzled against his collarbone. Jasper’s nose was now buried in his hair. Awkwardly Jasper wrapped his leg around him, trying to find a balance in this new cuddling position.  


“Me too,” Monty answered, and Jasper could feel it resonating through his bones. He pressed a quick kiss to Monty’s forehead, wondering if it was okay, feeling his heart rate spike when he felt Monty smile against him. Monty didn’t comment on his heartbeat. Instead, he just lay close, hand stretched out against the skin of Jasper’s chest. “We should do this more often.”  


“Yeah, we should,” Jasper agreed, soaking in Monty’s warmth. “Like, every night.”

“Every night sounds good,” Monty had said, drifting off to sleep.

Jasper was holding Monty like that now, drifting and drifting after the day of work. His heartbeat was almost sluggish now, not as erratic as it had been the first few times. He suppressed the urge to press his lips on Monty’s lips instead of on his forehead; Monty was already asleep, and he himself almost was. Kisses could be shared other times.

 

They hadn’t really spoken about it after the first few times. The snuggling was fully consensual, mostly only done after being insinuated or asked for. When they were younger they had lain together like this lots of times, before it was something special or even considered something. It was just what they did. How they were. 

Jasper didn’t really believe it helped stop the nightmares. No, the nightmares were still there, it was just that he was more at ease when he felt Monty physically next to him, always warm and there. It helped him fall asleep less restless. Easily. When Monty was close, there was comfort.

Jasper awoke half sprawled out over Monty. Both blankets were laying atop of Monty, and Jasper shivered slightly. Through the small window of their room, nothing more than a small stripe of glass, sunlight was shining, making dust dance around in its sunrays. It was when Jasper sat upright that he felt a sharp sting at his side. He checked on his side, but there was nothing there other than the bandaged wound. The bandage was clean.

Jasper put on his shirt, debating whether to wake Monty. He decided against it. After all, every time they got a good night’s rest was a small miracle. Jasper took his time getting up. There was no rush, it probably was early in the morning. The Arkers didn’t have a routine, as long as you did the task you were assigned to do and got it done before going to sleep, you were good to go. The only ones really on a schedule were the cooks and the teachers.

 

* * *

 

“Jasper,” Murphy was the first to spot him walking into the dining hall.  


“Murphy,” Jasper greeted him.  


“Where’s your other half?” Murphy smirked, earning a raised eyebrow from Bellamy. Jasper ignored the tone in his voice and answered.  


“Still asleep.”  


“Wish I was,” Clarke sighed. “I could do with more sleep.”  


“You and me both,” Raven sighed. “I just hope I’m not up for cleaning duty.”  


“Nah, I am,” Miller said. Raven sent him a pitiful look. “Bryan and Monty as well. Jasper, could you see if he’s still asleep in an hour and wake him up if he still is? We got a lot to do.”  


“No problem,” Jasper said. “Anyone know what my duties for today are?”  


“We’re supposed to do inventory with Kane,” Clarke nodded. “Good thing you woke up early, maybe we can get a headstart.” 

“Sounds good,” Jasper said, taking a bite of whatever his breakfast was. It didn’t taste too bad for once. After they were done they headed down the storage room, where Kane was already awaiting them with a full inventory list.  


“It’s quite simple. We just need to take stock of everything, count the products. Write it down if there’s anything unusual about it,” he smiled at Jasper and Clarke. “That’s it. Easy does it.” 

They started counting and kept counting. After an hour Jasper took a short break to see if Monty was still asleep, but there was no one in their room so he assumed Monty had awoken and had taken off to perform his duties. Within ten minutes Jasper was back counting again, trying not to wince every time he had to reach for the higher shelves. 

By the time Jasper had seen _it_ , they had been counting for four hours straight.

“What’s this doing here?” he asked, voice unsteady, shaking, hand reaching out but faltering. Jasper found it hard to move his eyes from the object, couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. He’s stepping back, shaking, reaching out again and then not. He stood to take a deep breath, but it came out shallow, short, and ragged. When Kane reached out Jasper’s already breathing hard, unable to stop shivering, feeling how the object lay in his hand while he drove it into Monty’s flesh. He could still feel the smile that had been carved around his lips that moment.

All Jasper could do was watch in horror as the screwdriver lay there taunting him, challenging him to touch it. He blinked, and he saw the blood on it, felt it heavy in his hands. He blinked, and he heard Monty gasp. He blinked, and there was blood everywhere.

In a fit of rage Jasper took the screwdriver and tossed it away with force, causing it to bounce off of the wall. He breathed again, still shallowly, was still backing away until he felt his back colliding with the wall. He started to crumble. When he looked at his hands, he saw nothing but blood. Sliding down the wall he tried to control his breathing, but his mind was playing stepping stones with every horrible memory he had. The spear, the mountain, the blood. 

He felt Monty dying in his arms and started shaking his head. His mind was playing tricks with him. Monty had survived his attack. Monty was alive and kicking. And so was he.

Jasper was vaguely aware of Clarke kneeling beside him, of Kane lingering somewhat awkwardly in the background. At this point he was a mess of tears and short breaths, disheveled and unraveling. He knew Clarke was talking to him but it didn’t register. He breathed in. The screwdriver felt heavy in his hand. He breathed out. He thrusted the screwdriver into Monty’s flash. He breathed in. He threw himself on the ground, forcing his body to stay down. He breathed out. Monty made it out alive. He breathed in. Monty made it out. He breathed in. Monty made it. He breathed in.

Monty made it.

“Jasper,” he heard a familiar voice say, and he immediately looked up to find Monty’s face hovering above his. In front of him, Monty knelt, while Clarke kept sitting next to him, trying to ask something Jasper couldn’t grasp. He looked Monty in the eye, feeling the soft touch of his hand against his cheek. Jasper almost forgot how to breathe. “Jasper, listen to me. I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.”

Jasper breathed in. He nodded. Clarke frowned. Jasper didn’t see that.  
For a moment, Jasper thought they might kiss, that Monty would press his lips against his, softly, tentatively, comforting, like he had done before. He felt his heart skip in anticipation, swallowed and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and then another, until the buzz was gone and his body hummed contently. When he opened his eyes, Clarke’s questions flooded his brain. Monty had left.

 

* * *

 

Jasper woke up alone, screaming. His body couldn’t stop shaking. He had had the most horrible dream; Monty was laying in his arms, dried blood on his lips, dart stuck in his throat, arrow protruding from his chest. His blood had been everywhere, dripping over Jasper’s hands, so much warmer than his body felt against his own. The wind was howling at them, darting through bushes, making leaves rustle, darkness rolling over their skins. One, two, three drops, and then a whole storm came. Jasper just sat there, unable to move. Soaked to the bone he was, clothes sticking to him like an unwanted second skin. He couldn’t let go of Monty, because letting go meant it was real. That he was dead. Just when his grasp finally slipped, when he started to let go, he awoke.

Jasper grasped for the sheets, for something to hold on to. He was shivering, heart beating erratically against his chest, feeling like it might beat out of it. A pain tore up his side, but he was willing to ignore it. 

He needed to find Monty.  


Jasper didn’t bother to put on proper clothes, just folded his hand over his shirt, underneath which his wound was burning. His ankle seemed to be fine, but that was not what was on his mind. He made his way do the dining hall when he heard Bellamy, Clarke, Miller and Harper speak in hushed voices. He slowly gritted to a halt, gritting his teeth.  


“-didn’t show up for his cleaning duty yesterday either.”  


“I haven’t seen him in three days,” it was Harper speaking.

“I haven’t either,” Miller confessed. Jasper could almost hear how they were looking at each other.  


“The only one-,” their voices died down when they heard movement, someone slumping against the wall. Jasper took a breath and forced himself upright again. Clarke came walking down the corridor.  


“Jasper,” she said, then gasped when she saw his body. “Shit-“

Bellamy rounded the corner, nodding at Jasper, then stopping in bewilderment as he saw Clarke nailed to the ground a few paces away.  


“Clarke?” he asked, confused, looking questioningly at Jasper, and only then noticing how pale Jasper was. “Shit,” he confirmed, rushing towards Jasper. His side was one big bloodstain.

Jasper didn’t care.

“We need to get you to Abby,” Bellamy said. He looked ready to pick Jasper up and carry him personally to Abby if he would protest. Lamely, Jasper shook his head.  


“I have to- I- ha-have to- find Monty,” he breathed, specks dancing across his vision. His body had started shaking again. Bellamy threw Clarke an unsure look.  


“We will find Monty for you if you come with us to see my mum,” Clarke said, nodding her head reassuringly. Bellamy’s face twisted, although Jasper did not know why. As he felt his strength leaving his body, he nodded. He almost missed the way Clarke said: “Send out a scouting party.”  


“Yeah, okay,” he managed to get out, “I just need my boy here.” 

 

 

“They think you’re dead,” Jasper said. “They’re missing you.” 

Monty stared blankly ahead.

“Maybe I am,” he said. Jasper started shaking his head.  
“That’s not funny,” he said, still shaking his head. “Why would you say that?”  
Monty shrugged, still staring blankly ahead.

Jasper reached out to take his hand. 

He must be delirious.

 

* * *

 

“Jasper, we need to know what happened- what caused this wound.”  


“A dart,” Jasper croaked, fingers intertwined with Monty’s. Monty was gently rubbing his thumb along the back of his hand, like he used to do. Such a simple, caring gesture. 

“Do you remember when you got hit?” Abby asked. Jasper started to shake his head, but images danced across his vision.

A crash. a shout. He looked around frantically whilst running, seeing only a glimmer in the eyes of their attackers, their bodies swallowed by the ink black of night. He fell, ground connecting with his body.

“Scouts,” he said eventually, mind somewhere else. The trees were staring back at him. Monty was lost somewhere in the distance. He heard a shout.

“Three days ago?”  


The dart pierced his skin, but Jasper didn’t feel the impact as the adrenaline surged through his body. His feet hit the ground in a cadence, a death race with only one victor. The tree roots were in his way; he wished there was a way to cut them down, to clear the path. His foot got stuck.  


“Where were you?”  


The soil was damp beneath his fingertips. He coughed, felt a metallic taste on his lips. He didn’t care. They just had to make it. He scrambled to his feet, slowly.

“Monty,” Jasper whimpered. He heard Monty call his name, felt his body being supported, dragged along to the fence. He didn’t want to slow Monty down, tried to get him to leave, but it didn’t work.

“Did he get hurt?” Abby asked. Jasper and Monty ran together, tangled limbs and dream, pain laced through both their bodies but numbed by adrenaline. Their blood was flowing. Jasper’s head lolled, shaking. He didn’t want to answer. Their bodies were intertwined and as tangled as their lives were. He felt Monty press his lips against his for the first time. He felt them fall down on the hard forest ground. He felt, he felt, he felt. Like his chest might explode, like he was set aflame. 

He should’ve known not to look back.  


And then he saw.

 

* * *

 

“Is he okay?” Jasper easily recognized Raven’s voice, even if he couldn’t see her. He lay at sickbay, the wound in his side stitched, closed up. He numbly stared at the ceiling. His voice ceased working.  


“He’s - getting better,” Abby carefully picked her words. Raven started walking up to him, eyes faltering when she saw Jasper was wearing Monty’s hoodie. She felt her heart sink.  


“Hey,” she said, sitting down on the empty bed next to Jasper. “Pretty rough patch huh?”  


“Just a scratch,” Jasper said weakly, but the tone of humor was missing from his voice. He felt his tiredness in his bones. “Not as bad as having a bullet removed without anesthesia.”  


“Chyeah,” Raven smiled sadly. “You’re holding up all right?”  
Jasper turned his head and stared at a spot next to her. There was a hint of a smile before his breath hitched and panic flooded his eyes. He gasped for air, closed his eyes and whimpered. Raven watched cautiously, body tense, alert to jump into action when needed.  
There was a silence between the two of them.

“Haven’t seen Monty in a while,” Raven carefully said, eyes not quite looking at Jasper, but still studying his face. To her confusion, Jasper looked- surprised.  


“But he’s here,” Jasper said, looking at Raven as if she was blind. “He’s- he’s standing-“ his voice faltered and the panic entered his eyes again. Tears filled his eyes.  


“I keep losing him.”

Raven felt tears sting in her own eyes. Jasper didn’t get it. Monty had been there, he was sure. He promised. He had _promised_.  


“I’m not leaving you,” Monty had said stubbornly. So it wasn’t happening now, there was just no way-.

“Raven,” he heard a familiar voice say in the distance. “We found him. We-“  


They found Monty, like they said they would.  


Jasper couldn’t help but feel relieved.

The voice stuttered.  


“- we found his body.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! and at this point: sorry. I don't know if it has turned out the way I wanted it to, because this idea was actually kinda hard to execute.


End file.
